


all bets are off

by Eryn



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Betting, Consensual Kink, Developing Relationship, M/M, Sex, teacher!Q
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:12:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eryn/pseuds/Eryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because they've proven once too often that they can't deal with modern tech, MI6 enrolls the Double O's in a university computer science class. Of course sticking nine bored and horny men in a room full of university students is bound to go bad. Especially when the professor looks more like a TA and is actually a PhD student who's much too clever - and much too hot - for his boring job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story started out on tumblr [because of a nice picture of Ben Whishaw](http://entangledwood.tumblr.com/post/39580623462/professorfangirl-imoranion-reblog-for) and thanks to Kryptaria it grew and grew. It grew plot and secondary characters and background pairings and a non 00Q prequel.
> 
> Fair warning, it's not done yet and I have a penchant for writing incredibly slowly even with the whole thing already written (see 'Long Way Home'). It's also unbeta'd and if anybody wants to change that, or just wants to stalk my google docs and prod me into writing more, feel free to message me at entangledwood@gmail.com :D
> 
> Again thanks a lot to Kryptaria for encouragement, reading over this, plotting and listening to me rambling and all in all being awesome! I sure wouldn't be posting this now without her encouraging me to do it :)
> 
> if you're interested in getting your own story written by me for you make sure you check out the [ao3auction](http://ao3auction.tumblr.com/entangled) at tumblr.
> 
> Now go and have fun reading :D
> 
> Also, be aware that I have no time to continue writing this story right now. So this might be a rather disappointing read until I get around to actually get back to this story and add a strong plot to it. You have been warned.

**01.10.2012**

_You can’t just not teach_ , they’d said. _We’re already bending the rules more than enough for you_ , they’d said.

Looking out into the auditorium Merlin wondered if he should have argued more. Or maybe he should have just stopped after his BA. Or maybe once he’d got his Masters. It would have saved him a world of trouble, and not only because he wouldn’t have had to teach. He also wouldn’t have ended up in this particular research group, where everyone from the professor to the undergrad was either stumped by his work or hated him for it. It wasn’t his fault that they couldn’t grasp what he did and failed to follow his commenting.

Unfortunately being the stepchild of the research group meant he got to teach the crap class. The one no one wanted to be in, not even the students who took it. Especially not the students who had to take it.

 _Everyday Applications of Computer Science_. More like _Computers for Idiots_ , Merlin thought grimly. A quick headcount and few choice questions once again made it obvious that this was a class that faculty had created for those poor fellows who needed some technical credit but who no one actually wanted in their _Basic Programming_ or _Advanced Network Creation_ classes. Because of this, he was now saddled with two hundred humanities students who thought this would be the easiest way to tick that annoying little box on their list.

There was one group, however, that didn’t fit into the standard cliche of the mid-twenties humanities or sociology major. One small group, seated at the very back of the lecture hall, sitting at the very back of the room in pressed suits and neatly styled hair. Their whole look made the hair at the back of his neck rise.

When Merlin had first noticed them he’d wondered if they were here to evaluate him. A few years older than most students and with an air of competence and control around them. And since this was his first class it wasn’t unlikely that someone had been sent to evaluate him. Still, nine was a bit much, right? And they weren’t part of the faculty either. But what other reason did they have for being here, all but sitting at attention and taking notes carefully even when he went through the boring general introduction part?

Merlin firmly pushed the mystery to the back of his mind. Until the attendance list was returned he had no way to learn anything about the curious group. They hadn’t raised their hands at any of his questions, meaning they definitely weren’t normal students. But for the time being he had a lecture to focus on. And if these men really were assessing him, then he would have to be on his best behaviour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James Bond had no idea just what had possessed M to send all of the Double O agents back to university - especially since she was sending them all at the same time. Sure, they’d recently had to replace 003 because he had been unable to use his new Q-branch cell phone without blowing up the hotel room he’d been staying at. And after a recent debacle in Cairo, the agents weren’t issued any more laptops. But sending them to university was _not_ the answer. Yes, maybe they needed training for new media. And maybe they weren’t up to date on current technology. But James didn’t believe a theoretical university class would help them deal with the creations Q-branch threw at them - no matter how fancy the name.

James knew the other Double O’s felt much the same about this mess, but at least they were still allowed to do field work. If things came up, they’d skip class for a few weeks and do what they’d been hired for; what they did best; what they enjoyed doing. But where normally Bond could spend time between his missions vacating somewhere around the globe, relaxing with a beautiful woman or man on some beach or another before returning to London, M had made it clear that for the length of this semester he was expected to return immediately. And once he got back he wasn’t allowed to spend his time as he pleased either. Instead of killing time with gambling or sex he had to not only show up for classes but also do homework. M had made it clear that if they failed - or even failed to live up to her standards - she wouldn’t hesitate to enroll them again next semester.

It was about the only reason why he’d crawled out of bed at 6:00 a.m., ignored the slight hangover from last night, and got himself presentable. After all just because he had to attend university didn’t mean he had to look like it.

When he showed up at campus he learned that this sentiment was shared by the other agents, which meant they’d all shown up like they would anywhere - in bespoke suits, polished shoes, and with more or less annoyed expressions on their face. The only one who wasn’t holding tightly onto a travel mug of strong tea or espresso was 006, who had always had a thing for college age girls and who thought this was the perfect opportunity to do as he pleased. Not that they’d allowed him to run wild, but for now he was still excited.

They were the only ones actually on time for the 8:00 a.m. class and claimed the seats in the very last row. Sure, the class was scheduled for [8 c.t.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Academic_quarter_%28class_timing%29), which meant they wouldn’t start until 8:15, but the room was likely to be packed on the first lesson of the term so unless you wanted to sit on the stairs you had to be on time. Nonetheless the only other person present was a boy who looked like he may or may not be legal, thin with black hair and pale skin, dressed in the standard IT student dress up. He was setting up a deceptively simple-looking laptop at the front so James figured he might be the TA. The professor was nowhere to be seen, but then he as well had another 15 minutes to show up.

Other students were only arriving sparsely until 10 minutes past, when all of a sudden the floodgates were opened and in about two minutes the whole lecture hall was packed. Next to him Alec - 006 - was trying to get the attention of a group of girls who’s taken their seats right in front of them and James idly wondered if maybe he could trade places next time.

8:15 came and went, and still no professor in sight, but the TA didn’t seem to care. James watched closely as he picked up two pieces of paper and went to the front row, handing them out. From the way they were passed around, James figured they were some kind of attendance list, and he wondered just how the Double O’s fit into the statistics. It wasn’t like they were real students or normal guest listeners after all.

The boy went back to stand behind the desk, and with a few keystrokes to his laptop had the white wall over the blackboard illuminated with plain black text on a plain white slide. The first screen gave nothing past the course name and class time, and James had to admit he approved of the minimalistic design. It hopefully meant the class as well would be straight to the point - and maybe even simplistic enough that it wouldn’t require too much work. There was still no professor around and James could see the students getting restless. It was almost 8:20 now. Maybe the professor was sick? Or had some other urgent appointment? Whatever the reason they were still going to start now. James watched the TA straighten, body language changing in a way that immediately got everybody’s attention even before he started to speak.

“Good morning and welcome to Everyday Applications of Computer Science. My name is John Evans. I’m a Ph.D. student, and I’ll be teaching the class this term. Because of this, you’ll find some things changed from how they were handled last term. I have already handed out attendance lists. I will keep taking attendance in every class and there will be no lecture material put online. If you want to be able to complete your assignments, I suggest you show up in person.”

James couldn’t help but sigh along with the other two hundred students, but the TA didn’t seem to care. The boy just brought up the next slide which detailed assignments, homework, and exams. Apparently they were supposed to hand in homework every week as well as two more extensive assignments - so much for an easy ride. And on top of that there’d be a written final. The points requirement to qualify for that exam alone seemed rather utopian already but James figured that if he really did struggle he’d find some geek at Q-branch to help him.

After exam details and application procedures as well as a short lecture about handing in your own work and signing only for yourself on the attendance sheet the boy switched to the first slide that actually dealt with the lecture material. The sight of a neatly gutted desktop computer already made James’ skin crawl.

He’d thought he’d been done with crap like that when he’d graduated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date clarification: I realised the way I gave the date wasn’t unambiguous, so I wanted to emphasise that the story is set in the winter term. “Today” is October 2nd.
> 
> Age clarification: Merlin is 22
> 
> Also, I am a university student in German and the whole setting is built closely around how I experience university life. There might be quite a few inaccuracies when compared to the English or American university system.
> 
> The building I am modeling the computer science building after is the building of the Chemistry department of the [Technical University of Berlin](https://www.pressestelle.tu-berlin.de/fileadmin/a70100710/Dokumentationen/Imagematerial/CD-Manual/Bilder/Screen/TU_Bild-Aussicht_RGB.jpg) (which is where I study).  
> [This is the building](http://www.behindertenberatung.tu-berlin.de/fileadmin/ref2/beauftragte/C_Vordereingang_1.jpg), [this is the lecture hall (and approximately the view the Double Os have)](http://www.big-nse.tu-berlin.de/uploads/RTEmagicC_P1160864.JPG.jpg), [and these are the stairs to break your neck on](http://www.behindertenberatung.tu-berlin.de/fileadmin/ref2/C130_oben.jpg)
> 
> a coffee roastery is a cafe where the coffee is roasted and ground in house. This one depicted here is based on the [Berliner Kaffeerösterei](http://www.berliner-kaffeeroesterei.de/shop/raeumlichkeiten.php)(Berlin coffee roastery), which is indeed in walking distance of campus, but unfortunately much to expensive to enjoy regularly.

By the time the attendance list made it to the last row, class was almost over, and James was pretty much done with the day. He wasn’t looking forward to repeat performances, but he knew they were coming. Thrice a week, two hours each, with a pen poised over his notepad, ready to jot down whatever seemed significant. At least his people-reading skills came in handy. He could actually guess what was more important since he had no chance of figuring it out based on what Mr. Evans said.

The boy definitely didn’t pull his punches, and the first hour of real class had been enough to leave most of them reeling. At least he gave the students some time to take quality notes. Still, the speed was harrowing, and James was sure that he hadn’t written this much in such a short time since he’d been in uni.

The only one who didn’t seem troubled, or at least not as troubled as the rest of the Double O’s, was Jack, their new 003. He was a good ten years younger than Bond, and had complained quite loudly about having to take the class at all. But M had just raised an eyebrow at him, and the rest of them had had the silent satisfaction of seeing the newcomer put in his place. Because no matter how long Jack had been working for MI6, amongst the Double O’s he was the newbie. And while Alec considered Jack something of a personal protege, James was more than happy to show him his place.

When the attendance list reached him, James was glad for the respite. Sure, he’d have to catch up after filling in his information, but the class was almost over, so he was sure this would be the last slide. Or maybe the penultimate one. Hopefully.

 **Name:** Bond, James

So far so easy. For the next two he checked what had been written above and couldn’t help but grin. Even after almost two years with MI6 001 hadn’t lost his sense of humour.

 **Course of Studies:** Guest Listener (MI6)

 **Student ID:** 007?

He wondered what M would say if she ever heard of this, but figured he could place the blame elsewhere. Maybe on incomplete information prior to the assignment. After all, the only thing they’d been told had been the time, the place, and the repercussions for slacking off.

Once class let out — and James was quite grateful for 008’s neat writing, as it allowed him to catch up quickly — the agents stayed seated. Everyone else seemed eager to flee the scene, but not even Alec was willing to become part of the masses that were pushing through the overly narrow doors. Of course, a few students also went up to the front, but James could see that Mr. Evans was not interested in any of them. Even from the back of the room, the students’ body language spoke clearly of their discontent, and James imagined he could hear them whine even though he was at the other end of the room. But since their instructor was having none of it one after another the students gave up and left.

“Could one of you please bring up the attendance lists?” the boy called out once the last of those pestering him had turned to leave. He didn’t check to see if anyone moved, turning to shut off his laptop. James shook his head and wondered what would happen if he just pocketed the list to burn later. But of course he was above petty pranks like that... for now. So instead he took the list from Emmanuel, 009, who seemed disinclined to move until the last student was gone.

The stairs leading to the teacher’s desk were low and took some getting used to, but James wasn’t a Double O agent for nothing. He even managed to catch a young man on his way up who’d been about to trip and get himself a bloody nose. Really, no sense of balance in that one. Shaking his head, he approached the desk and placed the attendance lists on it. Again, the boy didn’t look up, and James couldn’t help but frown at his careless attitude. What if he’d wanted to slip a knife into his ribs? Or smack him for being such a hard teacher right from the start? But then again, from the boy’s looks, he hadn’t been in so much as a scuffle in his life. Or if he had, he’d come out the sore loser. The boy looked like he weighed nothing and would break under light pressure, no matter the scruffy look he cultivated. Of course, light and breakable held a certain appeal, but since this was a professional environment and not an actual mission, James made sure not to look too closely.

Without a word, he turned to leave, and was startled to hear an absent minded, “Thanks for that,” from behind him. James didn’t look back though. If the young man couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge him before, James didn’t have to linger now. Quickly, he walked to the door and out into the foyer where the rest of the Double O’s were still waiting. Apparently, none of them wanted to be the first to report to headquarters after their first class. Maybe they simply wanted to linger on campus some more. After all, it wasn’t every day they were surrounded by so much innocent flesh, all of it so readily available, with no ulterior motives.

They’d already gathered quite an audience just by standing there. James figured it was due to the fact that, for once, there were men on campus who actually knew how to dress themselves; most of the boys he’d seen looked like they were still getting dressed by their mothers. The girls especially were giggling and whispering as they passed the agents. James could already see Emmanuel twitching nervously at the attention, hand running over his suit in a calming motion that only made the girls fawn a little more.

With a smirk on his lips James stepped out and headed in the direction of the cafeteria, the rest of his little group hot on his heels. Surely M could say nothing about them getting coffee before returning, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once the last student had left Merlin picked up the attendance lists and headed back to his office. He skimmed over the lists as he walked and easily found the group he’d been wondering about. Guest listeners. From MI6.

Most likely accountants or other boring office personnel but for one hilarious moment Merlin wondered what’d happen if they were actual spies. Maybe they’d try to blackmail or threaten him into passing them. He chuckled a bit and tried to imagine just what it would look like, them trying to threaten him. Of course Merlin had no idea if they even needed to pass this class. He was fairly sure they didn’t, as they weren’t getting a degree, but then again, their employer hadn’t enrolled them for nothing, so maybe they needed at least passing credit to remain out of trouble. Well, he wasn’t going to make it easy for them. Or for any of the lot really.

Sure, he didn’t want the class, but more because he didn’t want to teach, instead of dislike for the material itself. He’d already looked at the curriculum and started making adjustments. By Christmas, he’d have half of them convinced they’d better find their technical credit somewhere safe - like _Advanced Mathematics_.

Grinning deviously, he unlocked his office door and went to his desk. A sweep of the mouse called up the login screen, and after he’d settled in, he placed the attendance list on the scanner. The program he’d put together last week would convert it to an electronic list, scan for handwriting duplicates and then create directories for each of his students. That little wonder already managed to eliminate three students whose names had been written down by a fourth person who hadn’t even bothered to change his writing. Really, unless they had a very good excuse, they should have at least managed to show up for the first lecture of the term.

From outside his office Merlin could hear laughing and once again he wondered just why office signs needed your full name. It wasn’t like his students were allowed to call him by his first name. And his co-workers knew his complete name already. And if he were to publish he could just use initials. So why did it need to be on display right next to the office he didn’t have to share with anyone? No one was interested in sharing his space, so it wasn’t as if his desk could be confused for someone else’s.

The giggling in front of the door had quieted down and Merlin wondered if they were going to knock at all. Or maybe they’d just wanted to know what the M. in ‘John M. Evans’ stood for. Unfortunately he had very few illusions on the issue. By midnight his name would be shared freely on Facebook and Twitter as his students amused themselves about their instructor, whose parents had so kindly named him ‘John Merlin Evans’. Of course they hadn’t been able to name him anything but Evans. It was the family name after all. But he still hadn’t figured out just why they needed to call him Merlin. He could practically see the stupid wizard comments already, the veiled inquiries of whether or not he’d use magic to grade them, if he was scrying for their homework, if sending assignments by messenger owl was permitted.

No matter how fond he was of the name, it grated that most people only used it as a means of teasing him. Still, better Merlin than John, he mused. At least his name was memorable and he wasn’t confused with twenty others who shared the name.

The little party in front of his door had apparently vanished, and a quick search for his name proved that the avalanche had already started. No going back now, he decided. A quick check told him that it would be another forty-five minutes until the computer was done setting up the file system he wanted, so instead of sticking around and watching the system work, he picked up his coffee cup — a giant Scrabble-themed thing — and went for a stroll. There was a beautiful steel monster of a machine that made very good coffee in the office kitchen, but Merlin would prefer not to bump into any of his colleagues right now. They all knew he’d just finished his first lecture, and he was sure that a few of the students were already complaining quite vocally about the workload he’d promised them.

Merlin, however, believed that if they wanted a class where they didn’t need to do work, they shouldn’t have picked one with eleven credits. Sure, those eleven credits would effectively fill all the technical requirements of their degree, but they should be prepared to actually work for them.

With his cup in one hand and his smartphone in the other, he stepped out into the corridor, which was blessedly empty. Classes had started ten minutes ago, so even the latecomers should be inside. He quickly locked his office door and then made his way outside. There was a coffee roastery not far from campus that he favoured, so with his eyes focused on his phone he made his way across the mostly empty campus. It was 10:25 on Monday morning, so most students were either in class right now or still at home in bed and Merlin didn’t expect to bump into anybody.

As he made his way past one of the cafeterias, he spotted his group of MI6 employees sitting out in the sun. For a moment he thought about stopping and chatting, but then decided against it. Sure, they were an interesting lot, and on closer inspection a good-looking one, but he had nothing to talk to them about, they had no reason to talk to him, and all in all they were better off focusing on their own work. It was interesting, though, that they were still lingering. Maybe they had to take another class later today and didn’t want to leave till then? Or maybe they just wanted a cup of coffee? Though with the cafeterias being what they were, why someone would choose to visit any of them for coffee was a complete mystery to him. Merlin passed them without acknowledging them and soon enough was off campus and making his way through the narrow roads leading to the one place nearby that made coffee that was actually palatable.

A quick check on his phone revealed that the script was still running, and the Facebook group dedicated to his class was planning on a little Merlin-themed something for their Tuesday class. He set his phone to silent and then stepped into the store. It had a firm ‘no electronics’ rule and Merlin didn’t mind indulging them. Maybe today he’d even stick around to drink his coffee instead of just fetching a cup.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Book cover for All Bets Are Off by Eryn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/788535) by [catonspeed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catonspeed/pseuds/catonspeed)




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